In which Phileas Fogg's Name is once again at a Premium on the
Exchange.
It is now time to say something of the change which English opinion
underwent when the true bank robber, one James Strand, was arrested in
Edinburgh on the 17th of December.
Three days before Fogg was a criminal, followed by the police; now he
was a gentleman, who had only been taking an eccentric journey round
the world. There was great discussion in the papers, and those who had
laid wagers for or against Mr. Fogg rose once more as if by magic. The
"Fogg Bonds" were once more negotiated, and Phileas Fogg's name was at
a premium.
The members of the Reform Club passed those three days in great
discomfort. Would Phileas Fogg, whom they had forgotten, return? Where
was he on that 17th of December, which was the seventy-sixth day after
his departure, and they had had no news of him? Had he given in, and
renounced the struggle, or was he continuing the journey at a more
reasonable rate, and would he appear on Saturday, the 21st of
December, at a quarter to nine in the evening, as agreed upon?
We cannot depict the intense agitation which moved all classes of
society during those three days. Telegrams were sent to America and
Asia for news of Mr. Fogg, and people were sent, morning and night, to
Saville Row; but there was no news. Even the police did not know what
had become of Fix. But all these things did not prevent bets being
made, even to a greater amount than formerly. Bonds were quoted no
longer at a hundred per cent. discount, but went up to ten and five;
and even old Lord Albemarle was betting at evens.
So that Saturday night a great crowd was assembled in Pall Mall and
the Reform Club. Traffic was impeded; disputes, arguments, and bets
were raging in every direction. The police had the greatest difficulty
to keep back the crowd, and as the hour when Mr. Fogg was due
approached, the excitement rose to fever-heat.
That evening that gentleman's five friends had assembled in the
drawing-room of the club. There were the two bankers, John Sullivan
and Samuel Fallentin; Andrew Stuart, the engineer; Gauthier Ralph, the
director of the Bank of England; and Thomas Flanagan, the brewer; all
awaiting Mr. Fogg's return with the greatest anxiety.
At twenty minutes past eight Stuart rose and said: "Gentlemen, in
twenty-five minutes the time agreed upon will have expired."
"At what time was the last train due from Liverpool?" asked Flanagan.
"At 7.23," replied Ralph; "and the next does not arrive till past
midnight."
"Well, then, gentlemen," replied Stuart, "if Mr. Fogg had arrived by
the 7.23, he would have been here before now, so we may look upon the
bet as won."
"Do not be in too great a hurry," replied Fallentin. "You know that
our friend is very eccentric, and his punctuality is proverbial. I,
for one, shall be astonished if he does not turn up at the last
minute."
"For my part," said Stuart, who was very nervous, "if I should see him
I could not believe it was he."
"In fact," replied Flanagan, "Mr. Fogg's project was insane. No matter
how punctual he may be, he cannot prevent some delay; and a day or two
would throw all his arrangements out of gear."
"And you will remark besides," said Sullivan, "that we have not
received any news from him all the time he has been away, although
there are telegraphs all along his route."
"He has lost, gentlemen," said Stuart, "a hundred times over. The only
ship he could have come by and been in time was the _China_, and she
arrived yesterday. Here is a list of the passengers, and Phileas
Fogg's name is not included. On the most favourable computation our
friend can scarcely have reached America. I do not expect him for the
next twenty days, and my Lord Albemarle will lose his five thousand
pounds."
"Then we have nothing to do," replied Ralph, "but to present his
cheque at Baring's to-morrow."
The hands of the clock were then pointing to twenty minutes to nine.
"Five minutes more," said Stuart.
The five friends looked at each other. One could almost hear their
hearts beating, for it must be confessed that even for such seasoned
players the stakes were pretty high, but they did not wish their
anxiety to be remarked, and on Fallentin's suggestion they sat down to
whist.
"I would not give up my four thousand pounds," said Stuart as he sat
down, "if anyone were to offer me three thousand nine hundred and
ninety-nine."
The clock pointed to eighteen minutes to nine.
The players took up their cards, but kept looking at the clock. No
matter how safe they felt, the minutes had never appeared so long.
"8.43," said Flanagan, as he cut the pack Ralph passed to him.
At that moment the silence was profound, but the cries of the crowd
outside soon rose again. The clock beat out the seconds with
mathematical regularity, and each of the players checked every tick of
the pendulum.
"8.44," said Sullivan, in a voice which betrayed his nervousness.
One minute more and they would have won their bet. They laid down
their cards and counted the seconds.
At the fortieth second no news; at the fiftieth still nothing. At the
fifty-fifth second a loud roar was heard from the street mingled with
cheers and oaths.
All the players rose simultaneously.
At the fifty-seventh second the door of the room was thrust open, and
before the pendulum had marked the minute Phileas Fogg advanced into
the room, followed to the door by an excited crowd who had forced
their way in, and he said in his usual calm tone,
"Here I am, gentlemen."